


kiss me till the morning light

by hockeydyke



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Animals, Ducks, F/F, Fluff, Future Fic, Goat Farm, Post-Graduation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 20:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13197957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeydyke/pseuds/hockeydyke
Summary: Larissa Duan graduates from college, gets a girlfriend, and starts a farm. She really is living the dream.Part of my December 2017 holiday prompt fills!





	kiss me till the morning light

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this was only "write about Lardo dating a girl," so I took some liberties and wrote Lardo into my greatest dream, which is running a farm with a girlfriend.

When Lardo’s alarm goes off at seven-thirty, Camilla immediately grumbles and rolls overwithout letting go of Lardo, just as she has every morning since she moved in a few months ago. Lardo only lets herself watch her for a minute before getting out of bed because one, that’s mad creepy, and two, she has animals that need her.

 

She wiggles out of Camilla’s death-grip and gets dressed in a bleary haze. Jeans with a hole in the one knee that she probably should fix, an old hoodie that she think she stole from Bitty years ago, and her work boots. Stuff that’s meant to get dirty.

 

She can wait to brush her teeth, but she does have to stop in the bathroom quick to piss. As she’s buttoning her jeans she catches sight of herself in the mirror: exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, and hair sticking in several different directions. Damn. No matter how many times she chops her hair and then grows it out again, she can never seem to figure out what to do when it’s in this awkward in-between stage. For now it just gets in her eyes,no matter how many clips she uses.

 

But whatever. She’ll worry about it later. For now, she quickly stops by the kitchen to fill her travel mug with coffee, then heads outside. 

 

It’s September and just starting to get a little cold again, so she’s thankful for the warmth of the hoodie. She stops for just a second to look at the house-- her and Cam’s house, with its fresh coat of yellow paint that they’d done in August, when a bunch of the old team had visited to help them paint. It’s an old building and it’s creaky and cramped in parts, but it’s home, so Lardo loves the thing. 

 

She turns to the barn, where she can already hear one of the girls bleating. She loves them too, but damn, they can be a pain in the morning. Better to get to work sooner than later, though.

 

\\_._/

 

It was Shitty who’d inherited the property when his grandmother finally kicked the bucket last year. Lardo was at the wake, actually, when Shitty had found out that he’d gotten the farmhouse that his grandmother had grown up in.

 

He’d spit out the water he’d been drinking. Like, a full on spit-take, right there in the middle of the funeral home. At least three stuffy old relatives had gasped. Lardo had tactfully hid her snicker behind her clutch.

 

“I’m sorry,” he’d said, although he was anything but, “did you say that she left  _ me  _ the farm?”

 

“Yes-- didn’t you know?” Uncle Something-Or-The-Other said. “Honestly a relief to all of us. Nobody wanted that awful old thing. It’s more work than it’s worth, and I doubt the resale value on the property is anything good.”

 

“That old coot!” Shitty said, shaking his head and grinning. “Getting me good one last time from beyond the grave. That’s pretty clever.” He shook his head and saluted the casket. 

 

This time, Lardo couldn’t restrain herself from laughing out loud, which garnered several glares, which was whatever. They all hated her anyway-- especially Shitty’s father, who’d very quickly escorted them out of the funeral home after that outburst. They’d ended up sat on the curb out front of the building, taking swigs from the flask Shitty had smartly thought to bring with him, while Shitty ranted about how he had absolutely no idea what to do with the property.

 

“Anyway,” Shitty said, once they’d finally emptied the thing, “even if I did want an hour-long commute into Boston, I definitely don’t know anything about taking care of animals.”

 

Lardo perked up at that. “Animals?”

 

“Oh, yeah-- when I was a kid and we’d visit, there were tons of animals. I think it’s just goats now. Grams used to hire locals to take care of them, I think, since she was too snobby to do any of the work herself. There’s a lot of land. Some woods, a pond, a big-ass field, all that shit.

 

“A pond,” Lardo repeated. Huh. She knew a few things you could do with a pond. “Hey, Shits. Why don’t you just let one of your friends stay in the house in exchange for taking care of the place and the animals?”

 

Shitty thought about it for a second. “That’s a great idea, actually. Who do you think--” 

 

“I can move in next week,” Lardo interrupted. 

 

And that was that.

 

\\_._/

 

It really is an excellent arrangement, considering that up until that point, Lardo didn’t really know what she was doing with her life, and having a chance to work on her art without having to pay rent is pretty much the perfect opportunity to come along.

 

She’s becoming a pretty good artist-farmer, if she says so herself, which she does.

 

The four goats are all yelling at her when she finally makes it to the barn, and she yells right back at them in what she hopes is a good approximation of goat-speak. They bleat on right back, so they probably get the point.

 

She makes quick work of filling the feeders. The routine of it is comforting in its simplicity. After a year of taking care of the goats, her body goes into autopilot when she does their chores, and her mind can wander a bit. She thinks about breakfast, and the painting she’s working on, and her thoughts are only interrupted when Donny headbutts her. 

 

“Oh, thanks,” she grumbles. She was hoping she’d be able to get through cleaning the goat’s stall a bit before she got impatient, but it looks like that’s not going to happen.

 

She grabs Donny by the collar (bedazzled) and then, when she balks, sighs and grabs his sweater (also bedazzled) from a hook on her stall door to put on her. 

 

“You’re such a drama queen,” she tells Donny. “Like, almost as bad as college hockey players when it comes to making a scene. But not quite.”

 

Donny bleats in response and Lardo takes that as an okay to lead her out of her stall and onto the platform so Lardo can milk her. This part is also therapeutic, and thankfully the rest of the girls don’t put up a fight while she milks them and then lets them out to graze in their enclosure. 

 

Eventually, all of the girls-- Donatello, Michaelangelo, Raphael, and Leonardo, named after the Ninja Turtles and not the artists, for fuck’s sake-- are out in the yard, and Lardo can move onto her real pride and joy:

 

Her ducks.

 

Last year she raised two, and they’re both healthy and laying eggs regularly. They’re good girls. Her new ducklings are now a month old and probably the cutest things she’s ever seen.

 

They live out behind the barn, so Lardo heads out there next with their food and the hose in hand. She fills up their water and the feeders, then lets out the older girls so they can splash around in the pond. The ducklings, on the other hand, are staying in their enclosure with their kiddie pool for now. Lardo sits right down in the pen and plays with them for a bit, enjoying their little honks as they clamber over her and prod at her hands with their little beaks while they look for food.

 

Wow. Lardo loves being a fucking farmer. This is great.

 

(Truly, some days are harder than others, but this one is pretty good)

 

Sooner or later she has to head in, though, especially because it’s a Saturday, so she can spend the whole day with Camilla instead of alone in her studio. Working in there is chill, of course, and having that space is basically the whole reason she wanted to live here, but she also really loves her girlfriend and she knows she’s had a long day at work, so. 

 

She stops by the barn to make sure everything’s in its place and to tidy up a tiny bit more because hell, goats know how to make a mess. While she’s sweeping she notices that the cord of the clippers is hanging off their shelf and is definitely at a grabbable length for curious goat mouths, so she picks them up and-- hmm.

 

They’re just regular people hair clippers-- the old guy at the farmer’s market in town that she gets all her goat advice from said that those would work fine for her goats, and they have. Lardo’s cut her own hair before, a few times, during college. She felt fairly self-sufficient doing it, actually. She’s long since graduated to going to a hair salon like a real adult, but, well. She’s at her wit’s end with her hair right now, so she’s doing this.

 

She’s doesn’t have her mirror, but she does have her phone in her pocket, so she pulls up the camera, puts it in selfie mode, and props it up on the shelf while she plugs in the clippers. 

 

The first swipe of the clippers along the side of her head is exhilarating and she’s thrilled to see a big chunk of hair fall to the floor of the barn. The next few swipes are fun too, and then she actually looks at her phone screen and realizes, shit, she really can’t see what she’s doing. 

 

She clicks the clippers off and holds her phone up to get a side view of her head, then takes a selfie.

 

Oh, shit. That looks pretty bad. 

 

\\_._/

 

Camilla is, thank god, already awake when Lardo comes flying into the house five minutes later. 

 

“Cam! Cam, I fucked up!” Lardo is yelling. 

When she skids into the living room she finds Camilla sipping on her morning coffee. She’s absolutely gorgeous: legs tucked under herself gracefully, blonde hair falling out in ringlets from a messy bun, mug of coffee held loosely in her perfect hands, and once she gets a good look at Lardo she laughs.

 

“Please don’t laugh,” Lardo says, scowling at her as she joins her on the couch. “I look ridiculous.”

 

Camilla manages to hold a straight face for about three seconds before she giggles again. “Yeah, you do.”

 

“It was impulsive. I used the goat clippers.”

 

“Babe. You’re not a goat.”

 

“I know! I just wanted to get my hair out of my eyes!” Lardo sighs and lays across Camilla, who lets out an  _ oof  _ and quickly moves her mug out of the way.

 

Camilla nests her hand in Lardo’s hair and ruffles it. “Hmm. I think it’s salvageable. Want me to try to fix it?”

 

“Please.” 

 

Camilla gently shoves Lardo off her lap and they head upstairs to the bathroom, where they rummage around under the sink for a little bit and eventually find Lardo’s old clippers from college.

 

“I can’t believe I still have those,” Lardo remarks as she perches on the closed toilet seat.

 

“Larissa. You graduated two years ago. It’s not like it was long ago.”

 

Lardo considers swatting at Camilla’s arm, but she’s currently wielding hair clippers, so she decides against it. “Shut up,” she finally says. 

 

“Gladly,” says Camilla, leaning down to kiss Lardo quickly. She tastes like coffee and Lardo can’t help but grab the front of Camilla’s soft t-shirt to keep her down to kiss for a few seconds longer. 

 

Eventually Camilla manages to pull away. She revs the clippers in front of Lardo’s threat.

 

“That seems like a threat,” Lardo says, blinking at them. “Neat.”

 

Camilla laughs. “It is a threat. Kiss me again and you’ll never get cool hair again.”

 

“Okay, fair.” Lardo sits still, and Camilla goes to work, shaving the side of Lardo’s head evenly. It feels nice, and Lardo’s still tired enough that she zones out a bit while Camilla does it.

 

Eventually, the clippers quiet. Camilla sets them on the counter.

“Alright. Give it a look,” she says.

 

Lardo stands and surveys herself in the bathroom mirror while Camilla wraps her arms around her from behind and rests her chin on the top of Lardo’s head. It looks pretty okay for a home haircut-- the side is completely shaved up until the part, and it seems like part of the back is, too. 

 

“Side mullet. Cool. I can roll with that,” Lardo says, then turns to kiss Camilla again. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re very welcome,” says Camilla. “Now can we please have breakfast before my stomach decides to eat itself?” 

 

“Chyeah. We wouldn’t want that.”

 

Camilla turns on her heels and heads downstairs, and stays upstairs for just a minute longer to kick off her boots and change into some fuzzy socks, since she hates walking barefoot on the hardwood. They’re covered with little ducks. Adorable.

 

She’s just about to head downstairs when her phone buzzes again. It’s Shitty. She reads the message, then heads down the stairs two at a time. 

 

“Hey, Cam! Shits is driving down later!”

 

“Cool,” Camilla says, looking up from where she’s already got eggs cooking on the stove. It’s not unusual for Shitty to spend weekends at the farmhouse to escape the city. Then she catches sight of Lardo’s grin and raises an eyebrow. “Is it just Shitty?”

 

“It might be Rans and Holster too.”

 

“Uh-huh. And did Shitty invite anybody else”

 

Lardo hip-checks Camilla on her way to the fridge for some orange juice. “Jack and Bits.”

 

“Are they expecting us to make dinner?”

 

Lardo shrugs. “Let’s just order pizza. Shitty’s bringing beer, so I think all we have to worry about is cleaning up.”

 

Camilla snorts. “Cleaning up, yeah. I think we made a mess in the studio the other day.”

 

“Hey, that’s not a mess. That was art!” 

 

“Call it what you want, but I don’t think we want our friends seeing that,” Camilla says, and, well. That’s fair. 

 

“Okay, we’ll clean right after breakfast.”

 

“Oh, no. I have plans for you after breakfast.”

 

A chill runs through Lardo. “Oh, you do?”

 

“Yup.” Camilla ruffles Lardo’s hair, fingers grazing the freshly shaved part. 

 

“I guess cleaning can wait, then,” Lardo says, leaning her head to rest on Camilla’s shoulder. She’s not usually one for random declarations of affection, but she’s so overcome by warm fuzzy feelings in this moment that she can’t help but tilt her head up toward Camilla and mumble, “I love you.”

 

Camilla glances at her and smiles. “Love you too. But you’re definitely showering before we do anything. You smell like duck.”

 

Lardo laughs. Yeah, that’s fair. Breakfast, a shower, and then sex with her beautiful girlfriend? That’s a pretty good deal, in her opinion.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Samson by Regina Spektor because, haha, get it?
> 
> I swear I did a decent amount of research for this, but I can't promise that it's totally accurate. Like, I know a lot of people who have raised ducklings and as such have plenty of experience interacting with ducklings, but I really don't know if you're supposed to keep ducklings separate from your older ducks while they're growing up, but that's what you do with chicks and chickens so I figure that's probably right?
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated, and you can find me on tumblr where I'm also @hockeydyke!


End file.
